


Russian Roulette

by bookish_sister



Series: CatCF Orphan AU [2]
Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a fluffy ending, Cute Kids, Gen, Wonka’s Trying Okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 07:30:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13383084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookish_sister/pseuds/bookish_sister
Summary: After two and a half years in a stuffy girls’ home and a month in Wonka’s factory, Veruca Salt finally reunites with her father.





	Russian Roulette

**Author's Note:**

> Charlie on Broadway closed yesterday. I’m so sad, ugh. Have this.

**Russian Roulette  
\---**  
Veruca Salt cannot sleep.

This isn’t like other times, where she says she will not sleep unless she gets her way(which usually fails, because Mr. Wonka isn’t lenient like that). It’s more like those times at the girls’ home where she felt less like Veruca and more like Annie.

She’s too busy thinking about her father to sleep.

And that’s why Veruca is sneaking into Mike’s room at this ungodly hour, fully prepared to be yelled at if it means she can find her dad. She stands in the doorway of his room, watching the younger boy’s chest rise and fall slowly, and feels as if she’s intruding on a private moment.

But she has to know.

Veruca tiptoes up to Mike’s bed, stepping over wires and moving books with her feet. She kneels near his head and softly nudges his shoulder.

Mike jolts awake, brown eyes darting wildly around the room before finally landing on her.

“Veruca?” He drags his hands over his eyes, before pulling the needle on his record player and sitting up in bed. “What are you doing up?”

“I can’t sleep,” she says softly.

“And that means ‘you come wake me up’, right?” Mike deadpans, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” she tells her feet.

It’s silent for a while, and Veruca is sure that Mike is just waiting for her to leave. She’s about to get up when she hears Mike sigh. Veruca looks up to see him rubbing sleep from his eyes and pushing his covers back.

“What do you need me to do?” he asks.

Relieved, Veruca sits across from him on his bed and directly meets his eyes, ice blue to chocolate brown.

“I need you to help me find my dad.”

Mike nods and says, “Okay.”

He goes to get his laptop and Veruca stares after him, dumbfounded. “Wait, that’s it?” she asks, incredulous.

Mike returns with his computer, setting it up between him and Veruca and patting the spot beside him in invitation, which she takes.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he says while they wait for the laptop to ‘boot-up’. “You need this.”

He’s right, of course. She needs to know what happened to her father.

Mike opens a search tab. “What’s your dad’s name?” he asks.

“Rupert Oleg Salt.”

Mike types this into the search tab and clicks ‘enter’. A million entries pop up, and Mike immediately gets to work, typing and clicking with a look of tired determination on his face. Veruca, realizing that the only thing she could do at this point is wait, decides to do just that. She leans against Mike’s shoulder and watches his fingers fly over the keys.

The movement is quite hypnotic, really, and she watches, Veruca finds it harder to keep her eyes open, and decides to rest them for a minute…  
\---  
“Vee, wake up.”

Veruca jolts awake. She pushes herself off of Mike’s shoulder and wipes a trail of drool from the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry,” she whispers softly. “I fell asleep.”

“It’s okay,” Mike whispers back. “I found your dad.”

Veruca’s fully awake now.

“What? How? Really?” she asks, completely ecstatic.

“Yes, easily, really,” Mike replies, moving his computer off of his lap and standing up to stretch.

“Where is he?” Veruca, for once in her life, is not demanding an answer from someone.

Mike looks up from where he’s tucking his laptop back into it’s protective sleeve. “Yakutsk.”

“Russia?” Veruca asks.

Mike nods. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go tell Wonka.”  
\---  
There is a newly installed family unit in the middle of the factory. It’s been there as long as they have, and Mr. Wonka always makes sure to have breakfast with them before proceeding to throw himself into work, like he usually does. He does take breaks, however they’re usually spent on individually teaching the rest of them their respective jobs.

This day is going to be different, though.

Today, Mr. Wonka is going to help Veruca find her dad.

Veruca and Mike walk into the dining room and take their preferred seats. There are waffles on the plate in the middle of the table, and they each grab two. Veruca piles on a nice, healthy amount of syrup on hers and cuts them into neat, little triangles. Mike hardly puts syrup on his waffles, and uses his fork to make sloppily cut pieces.

Well, that’s what she notices about him. Mr. Wonka notices something else.

“Mike, please tell me you didn’t stay up all night again,” he says, pointing to the bags under Mike’s eyes.

Before Mike can make a snarky remark, Veruca butts in.

“I made him do it, Mr. Wonka,” she says. “We were looking for my dad.”

All eyes dart to her. All except Mike’s and Wonka’s.

The latter takes a small sip from his hot chocolate. “Oh, really?” Veruca nods. “And the results?”

“He found him.”

Wonka’s eyes widen, and he lowers his mug from his face. He smiles.

“Well, I’d expect nothing less from our resident boy genius,” he says, and Mike straightens beside Veruca. Wonka finishes his waffles and stands, mug of hot chocolate in hand. “Alright.”

Veruca tilts her head. “‘Alright’, what?”

“Alright, I’ll take you to find your father.”

Veruca is barely to keep from bursting out of her seat in joy.

“Yakutsk, Russia,” she squeaks.

Wonka nods. “We leave at noon,” he tells her, and turns to leave.

He turns back.

“Get some sleep, Michael.”

Mike rolls his eyes and continues eating. Veruca beams at him and turns back to her waffles.  
\---  
It’s 11:45, and Veruca really wishes time would go faster.

She and Violet(Mike is napping) are waiting in front of the Great Glass Elevator for Wonka to appear. Veruca is wearing a puffy lilac coat and pink thermal pajamas. Violet is still wearing her blue pajamas.

They stay silent for a few more minutes before Violet speaks up.

“So, you found your dad?”

Veruca glances at her.

“Well, technically Mike found him,” she tells her. Violet nods somewhat shakily.

“And you’re sure it’s him?” she asks. Veruca frowns.

“Of course, I trust Mike-”

“I’m not asking Mike, I’m asking you.” Violet fully turns to Veruca. “What do you think?”

Veruca was silent. “Well,” she says, regaining her voice, “I hope he’s right.”

The two girls stand in silence once more, each wanting to say something, but neither able to voice it.

The click of heeled shoes made its way down the hallway. The girls turn to see Mr. Wonka approaching them.

“Good afternoon, Violet,” he greets. Violet nods before walking off. Veruca watches her go, then turns back when she hears the ding! of the elevator.

“Shall we be off, Miss Salt?” Wonka extends his hand, and Veruca takes it.

“We shall.”

They sped off.  
\---  
The Great Glass Elevator touches down on the edge of Yakutsk, Russia with a ding. Veruca and Wonka step out into the cold night air, and snow crunches beneath their feet. They go from shop to shop, and Veruca listens as Wonka interacts with each store owner in fluent Russian, something that surprised Veruca when she first heard it.

She watches this take place, glances at the window, glances back.

She does a double take because the man standing outside the window looks familiar.

Very familiar.

Veruca inches closer to the window, close enough that the tip of her nose touches the glass. She studies the man closely, hoping that what she thought she saw was true.

And it was, for she’d recognize that rigid stance and white-streaked black hair anywhere.

“Daddy?”

Veruca turns to see Wonka still conversing with the lady at the counter. She turns back to see that her father is, thankfully, still there. She walks on the pointe of her feet, as to not draw much attention to herself, and tiptoes out the door. Once she’s out, she makes a beeline for her dad and slides up to his side unnoticed.

“Daddy?” Her voice barely reaches above a whisper, but he hears her all the same.

“Veruca?” His voice is incredulous, and pleasantly surprised.

Tears spring to her bright blue eyes, and a watery smile breaches her lips. She squeals happily and jumps at her father, hugging him tightly.

“Daddy!”

Veruca is positively overjoyed. Finally, after three years of waiting, she and her father have been reunited.

“I missed you, papachika,” she whispers as they part.

“I missed you, too, my little Verushka,” he says softly, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She leans into his touch and barely resists hugging him again. He lowers his hand to her shoulder and pulls her against his side.

“You’ve gotten taller,” Mr. Salt says with emotion. “I wish I could’ve seen you grow up.”

A drop of wetness falls into Veruca’s brown locks.

“It’s okay, you can do that now,” she reassures her father as he caresses her hair.

A Russian bus pulls up to the street where they’re standing. The doors open and the driver asks, in Russian, if they’re both getting on.

They both answer the affirmative.  
\---  
The drive to the apartment where her father resides was thirty minutes long. Veruca explained how Mr. Wonka had found not only her, but four other children as well, and cared for them all equally.

“This Mr. Wonka sounds like a great guy,” he tells her as they step off the bus.

“He is, Daddy,” she says brightly. “He has all these amazing, wondrous rooms in his factory, and he has cute little squirrels and geese and-”

The sound of angry Russian and breaking glass filled the air. Veruca and her father look up as a cabinet is thrown out of the window and glass spreads on the snow.

“Rupert Oleg Salt! Это прошло достаточно далеко! Пришло время!” One of the men inside the apartment shouts.

“Дерьмо,” her father whispers beside her.

“Papa,” she whispers back, wide blue eyes watching the scene before her, rough Russian accent seeping into her voice. “What is happening?”

Her father turns to her.

“Veruca, I need you to run. Far away from here where no one can catch you,” he adds when she starts to protest.

“But, Papa-”

“Veruca, please.”

The authoritative plea in his voice quiets her. She nods and turns to run, but her father pulls her close.

“I’ll never stop loving you, my little Verushka.”

“I’ll never stop loving you, either, papachika.”

Veruca Salt ran off into the cold, snowy night, not looking back even as gunshots filled the air.  
\---  
She felt like she had been running for hours, even though it had only been thirty minutes. She ran past tiny shops and through large crowds, ignoring their questions of who she was and what she was running from. She just kept running, running, running, runni-

Slam!

She runs into something cold and clear. The doors of the Great Glass Elevator slide open, and Wonka bends down to help her up. She leans into him, sobbing hard and loud, body shivering and trembling. His coated arms enclosed around her, and she embraced him as well.

“How did you find me?” she asks shakily as she gathers her wits.

“I saw you leave with that man outside the shop,” he says, drawing away from her. “I’ve been following you since then.”

“How did you know I left?”

“You squeal very loudly.”

Wonka stands and makes his way back to the elevator.

“Come on, Veruca,” he says.

“What happened to my father?” she asks.

Wonka stops in his tracks. He turns slowly.

“I’m sorry, Veruca,” is all the candymaker says.

Her eyes watered again, but she willed the tears away.

“I want to see him,” she tells him.

Wonka hesitates.

“We really should be getting back to the factory,” he says softly.

“I don’t think you understand me,” Veruca says, Russian accent returning in her emotion. “I want to see my father, now.”

Wonka scrutinizes her for a moment, and Veruca is worried that this tactic might not work. All those doubts are pushed away when he nods, and she knows that he’s realized that she doesn’t just want this, she needs this.

The elevator flies back to the small apartment. Wonka steps out first, instructing her to stay in the elevator until he had cleaned up the scene. She stares straight ahead at Wonka, lest her eyes be drawn to the pink-tinted snow.

He calls her over a few minutes later, once all the damage has been cleared. She slowly approaches the still form of her father.

Her father doesn’t even look dead. He looks like he’s sleeping, if Veruca were to ignore the multiple holes in his chest.

She does.

Veruca kneels in front of her father. She bends over and presses her lips to his cold forehead. She stands and turns to Wonka.

“Take me back,” she demands.

Wonka nods wordlessly and directs her to the elevator.

They take off into the night.  
\---  
The next day, Veruca wakes up late.

She does her usual morning routine of washing up and wears a magenta nightgown under a black robe. She makes her way to the kitchen more slowly than normal.

Mike and Violet are there. Wonka, Charlie and Augustus are not, though Veruca suspects they might be working.

The two look up when she arrives. If they are wondering about Veruca’s attire, they don’t make it known.

“How was Russia, Vee?” Mike asks.

“It was good,” Veruca says softly.

“Did you find your dad?” Violet asks.

Veruca lets out a choked sob. “Yes,” she whispers.

Violet’s lips form an ‘o’. Mike’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Veruca buries her face in her hands and sobs.

She doesn’t see Violet wave Mike out of the room, but she does feel the other girl wrap her arms around her shaking body. She clings to the blonde’s purple pajamas.

“He called me ‘his little Verushka’,” she sobs into Violet’s shirt. “He told he’d always love me.”

“I understand,” Violet tells her.

She doesn’t understand, but Veruca appreciates the gesture either way.


End file.
